Denver, CO

“Visions after the Blue Moon, August 2015” by Taylor M. Silvestri

I see you in my doorway,
sometimes two-stepping, sometimes on your toes,
sometimes all at once —
right before morning,
wrapped in my shirt, the sleeves
not yet reaching your wrists. I see you

look back.

I see you
in the apron my mother gave me,
washing stray hair and dust off blueberries in the sink,
grateful you don’t have to pick flowers
for the kitchen window
since desert lavender grows right outside
and you busted out the screen months ago.

~*~

In 2014, Taylor M. Silvestri left Burlington, VT in a cloud of smoke and with a mouth full of shark teeth. They’ve been trying to crawl back ever since.